


Old Dogs and Fierce Lions

by corys_the_bosmer



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon divergent s8 ep4, F/M, Jaime is a big softie, Tales from Tarth, Tarth, domestic life, pure fluff, the happy ending they deserve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:55:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29515650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corys_the_bosmer/pseuds/corys_the_bosmer
Summary: Duncan has been causing mischief around Evenfall Hall and Jaime decides to work on his training.A sequel to my other stories Out of the Storm and A Day at the Beach. Maybe read those first if you haven’t already. ;-)
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 8
Kudos: 42





	Old Dogs and Fierce Lions

Duncan was chasing the chickens across the courtyard, barking happily as they squawked and flapped, trying to get away. He ran past one of the kitchen maids, splashing muddy water on her skirt. She let out a small yelp of surprise, almost dropping the basket she was carrying. 

One of the stable boys chased him away from the horses with a broom. 

“Stupid dog is going to get himself kicked if he’s not careful,” he grumbled. 

The maid was about to reply when they both saw Jaime walking across the courtyard and quickly carried on with what they’d been doing. 

Jaime hadn’t heard what they’d been saying, but he knew Duncan was probably the cause of the interruption. 

“Duncan,” he called. “Come here.”

Duncan looked over at him, then back at the chickens, as if trying to make up his mind. 

“Come on!” Jaime called again more firmly. 

Duncan barked once, sending the chickens flapping again, before bounding across the yard towards him, gangly legs flying every which way. He jumped up, trying to lick Jaime’s face. 

“Get down,” Jaime told him, trying not to laugh. But Duncan didn’t pay any attention, his paws leaving muddy prints on Jaime’s britches. 

“We really need to work on your training,” Jaime said to him, scratching him behind the ear as he started walking away from the stables. 

He realised he didn’t know anything about training a dog. They’d had hounds when he was growing up at Casterley Rock, trained by Sandor and Gregor Clegane’s father. 

_How hard could it be?_ Jaime thought to himself. Duncan’s former owner must have trained him at least a bit before he died.

He made his way to a smaller yard, surrounded by sheds that were mainly used for storage. There were less people around, so hopefully there would be fewer distractions. Duncan followed behind him. 

Jaime stopped and stood facing the dog. He cleared his throat. 

“Sit.”

Duncan cocked his head to one side, watching him curiously. 

“Sit,” Jaime said again, more firmly this time. 

The dog seemed to think about it for a moment, before sitting down. 

“Good boy!” Jaime told him encouragingly. Duncan instantly jumped up again, barking happily and getting more mud on Jaime’s front with his paws. 

“That wasn’t what I meant,” Jaime told him, trying to brush some of the mud off. 

He pushed the dog down and tried again. 

“Duncan, sit.”

Duncan stared at him, then walked towards him, trying to push his nose into Jaime’s hand. 

“No,” Jaime told him. He moved a couple of steps away. 

“Sit.”

Duncan sat, his tail swishing back and forth. 

“Good boy,” Jaime said again, more calmly. 

“Now lie down.”

Duncan looked at him quizzically. 

“Lie down.” He pointed to the ground. 

When that didn’t work he walked back to the dog and squatted down in front of him. 

“Lie down,” he said, putting his finger on the ground in front of him. 

Duncan stood up and moved to sniff around Jaime’s hand. 

Jaime sighed. 

“That’s not lying down.”

He thought for a moment. 

“Wait here,” he told the dog, before going back inside the castle. 

He made his way to the kitchens, getting confused looks from the cooks and kitchen maids when he asked for some cold sausages. 

He went back outside, hoping Duncan hadn’t got into any more trouble while he’d been gone. 

He was still in the small yard, his front paws up on one of the wooden boxes, sniffing around and trying to look inside them. 

“Duncan!” Jaime called. 

The dog looked over at him, before jumping off the boxes and running over with a happy bark. 

“Let’s try something different,” Jaime told him, holding up one of the sausages. 

Duncan wagged his tail even harder, just about bouncing up and down on the spot with his front feet. 

“Sit.”

Duncan sat. 

“Good boy,” Jaime told him, breaking off a piece of sausage and giving it to him. He felt the dog’s teeth graze his hand in his eagerness to get the treat. 

“Careful,” Jaime warned him. “I need those fingers.”

He took a step backwards. 

“Lie down.”

Duncan lay down. Jaime gave him another piece of sausage. 

“Now stay.”

He backed away a few more paces, keeping his eyes on the dog. Duncan stood up, as if he was about to follow, his eyes locked on Jaime’s pocket where the sausages were. 

“Stay,” Jaime told him again, holding up his hand.

He kept backing away, glancing behind him to make sure he wasn’t going to walk into anything. 

As soon as he took his eyes off the dog, he heard another bark and the scrabble of paws as Duncan came bounding towards him again. 

“No, wait!” He managed to exclaim before the dog collided with him, almost knocking him backwards on to some wooden crates. He managed to push Duncan away before the dog could lick his face again. 

_I used to command armies,_ Jaime thought to himself. _Hundreds of men ready to die on my word. Now I can’t get one scruffy dog to listen to me._

“I murdered a king once, you know,” he told Duncan. “Everyone thought I was the worst man in the whole of the Seven Kingdoms. No-one would have dared to defy one of my orders.”

Duncan wasn’t paying any attention. He was too busy trying to get his nose into Jaime’s pocket. 

Jaime sighed. 

“Bad dog,” he said, not meaning it. He scratched Duncan behind the ears again. 

“Let’s try that again, shall we?”

He started walking back towards the middle of the yard. 

“Jaime? What are you doing?”

It was Brienne, coming from the main courtyard. 

“Erm, I’m working on Duncan’s training,” he replied. 

The dog ran over to Brienne, his tail wagging. 

“It’s going well I see,” she remarked, looking amused at her husband’s somewhat dishevelled appearance. 

“It’s going fine.” Jaime said, trying surreptitiously to brush more mud off his britches. “We just need some more practice.”

Duncan was bouncing around Brienne’s legs, barking occasionally. 

“Duncan, sit,” she told him. 

He sat without hesitation, his tail still wagging across the ground. 

“Why does he listen to you and not me?” Jaime asked. 

“Because he knows you’re a soft touch,” she replied. 

“I am not,” Jaime said, almost sulkily. 

Brienne kissed his cheek. 

“If you say so.”

“I do say so. Lannisters are never soft. We’re fierce, proud lions. Everyone knows that.”

Brienne looked even more amused. 

“Well, ser Lion, Lord Ashurst and his wife will be here soon. Father invited them for dinner. And you’re covered in mud.”

Jaime glanced down at himself. 

“I have time to get changed.”

He looked up at Brienne with a grin.

“Do we have time for a bath?”

“No, we do not.”

“I thought you liked helping me wash mud off.”

He closed the distance between them, reaching up to fiddle with the laces of her shirt. 

“I certainly like it.”

Brienne regarded him with a mixture of affection and amusement. 

“Another time,” she started to say, before Jaime cut her off with a kiss. 

He pulled her closer, enjoying the feeling of her body against his as her fingers gripped his hair and coat. 

They were getting lost in the moment, the rest of the world forgotten, until Duncan pushed his cold, wet nose between them, trying to get into Jaime’s pocket again. 

“What’s the matter, boy? Are you feeling left out?”

Duncan just looked at him, his tail still wagging. 

“I’ve told you before, I only want kisses from her.”

Brienne kissed his cheek again. 

“Don’t be long,” she told him, before turning to go back inside. 

“I won’t,” Jaime replied. 

Duncan stood beside him as he watched Brienne walk away, his tail gradually slowing to a stop.

“I know how you feel,” Jaime told him. He scratched the top of the dog’s scruffy grey head, causing the tail to start wagging again. 

“Always listen to Brienne,” he said. “She’s right about most things.”

“But don’t tell her I said so,” he added after a moment. 

Duncan tried to stick his nose into Jaime’s pocket, his front paws adding even more mud.

Jaime let out another sigh. He took out the last bits of sausage. 

“Sit.”

Duncan sat, and even stayed sitting after Jaime have him his treat.

“Can you catch?” Jaime asked him. 

He tossed the remaining sausage in the air and caught it again. Duncan’s eyes followed the movement intently. 

“Ready?” Jaime said. 

Duncan jumped to his feet, tail wagging harder than ever. 

“Go and get it!”

He threw the sausage across the yard as hard as he could. Duncan chased after it, barking in excitement. 

Jaime smiled to himself, watching as the dog found it and started gulping it down. He was learning to enjoy the simpler things as he relaxed into his new life on Tarth, in ways he’d never expected to. 

But duty called, and training would have to wait. 

“Stay away from the chickens,” he called. 

Duncan paid no attention to him, sniffing around the yard for something else to eat. Jaime shook his head and went inside. Maybe he’d be able to persuade Brienne that they had time for a bath after all.


End file.
